My Favourite Dessert
by latenightbeautiful
Summary: Santana's the HBIC except when it comes to the privacy of Berry's bedroom. Put as angst because of some rough sex. May turn into a twoshot or series if you all like it!


**A/N: First Pezberry fic, hope you all enjoy.**  
**A/N 2: Contains rough sex, food and some temperature play.**

**Disclaimer: Glee and the characters do not belong to me. If they did Finn would be dead already, and Faberrittana would have a lot more sex. With that said, enjoy the fic.**

You had never been a quiet one during sex. But as Rachel 'Man Hands' Berry drove deeper into you with every thrust, the noises coming out of your mouth were becoming obscene. You glance down to where the talented diva knelt over you, hovering between your thighs, staring back at you as she fucks you harder, and you can feel your stomach tighten; there's fire coursing up your thighs, and she as swipes a thumb across your clit, the extra pressure make your walls tighten, clenching around her fingers as you come hard over her hand, shouting her name and moaning incoherently.

She stills her fingers instantly, and you look up hazily at her to find her dark eyes narrowed at your, her lips tight. "Did I say you could come?"

* * *

You walk into school the next day, feeling slightly wobbly but overall really fucking good. You're officially the HBIC, aside from in Berry's room, obviously, and as you strut down the corridors, you make sure everyone knows it. Jewfro's suddenly in your face with a mic and a stooge videoing the two of you, asking questions about Glee and being the head Cheerio, but you silence him with a quick glare and shove past the two idiots, not wanting to waste your time on someone so inferior.

That's when you spot her. She's leaning when her back against her locker, her hand gently brushing against Finn's arm, laughing up at him warmly. A sharp stab of jealousy goes through you, and you're about to storm over there when she stops, flicking her eyes over to you, and smirks. She fucking _smirks_. She knows you can't really do anything about it, that she's the one in charge, and it makes you grit your teeth and scowl at the obnoxiously tall quarterback.

She leans up and whispers something in his ear, and he nods dumbly before loping off, and she turns her head to face you quickly, before turning around to open her locker, looking for her books for the next lesson.

You sigh, knowing it's an open invitation for you to go over. So you do, and when you reach her side, that smirk's back, and you fight the urge to insult her choice of sweater. She reaches into her locker, pulling out a folded note which she tucks into your bra past your tank top, whispering that if she catches you reading it before last period, you're in for a worse punishment than you've ever had.

You gulp, nodding slowly, and she smiles in satisfaction before slamming her locker shut, and walking off to her next class. You can't help but allow your eyes to trail over the length of her legs, up to the ridiculously short skirts she's so intent on wearing, before dragging your eyes back up to hers; she's staring at you as she rounds the corner, looking smug that you're so captured by her.

You growl at yourself for falling into her obvious trap, leaning your head against the nearest locker, before shrugging off the annoyance and heading in the opposite direction to your first class of the day.

By last period, the note still pressed into your bra is beginning to itch. You hadn't dared even touching it, knowing that would induce some form of punishment beyond your imagination, but now you were dying to open it, because really, you were allowed to now.

You're sitting in Government class, the teacher droning on about previous presidencies, and Rachel is sitting on the desk right behind you. You swallow hard as your fingers take the note from the constraint of your chest, pausing before unfolding it. "You're learning," a whisper comes from behind you, and you smile slightly at the praise before slowly unfolding the note, eliciting a small gasp at what is written there in perfect cursive writing.

A small chuckle is heard from her, and your mind is swimming with the instructions written on the paper. You tuck the note back where Berry had put it earlier than day, turning your head to the side slightly so she noticed, and nod to show you'll do as she says.

Something small hits the back of your head a few seconds later, and as you pick it up from the floor, you recognise it's another note containing the same cursive writing. Without hesitating this time, you open it quickly, your eyebrows quirking when you read the next instruction.

_And don't go easy on the cream._

* * *

You spend the two hours after school trawling the shops for the list of items Berry had demanded you bring. Where were you supposed to find vegan cream, anyway? Berry had clearly put this on here to make it impossible, so she could be pissed with warrant when you got to hers later.

You walk to the next shop in the square and sigh in relief when you see a huge sign informing you there's a 'Free From' section. You almost run there, clutching the last but one carton of vegan cream, and paying for it without even considering the price.

You throw the paper bags into the trunk of your car when you get back to the parking lot, speeding in your haste to get to Berry's house. When you get there, you straighten your appearance in your mirror, exhaling the breath you didn't know you were holding, and grab the bags, before walking to the front door, trying to maintain an air of confidence.

The door swings open before you even knock, which was lucky seeing as both your hands were full, and Berry is guiding you upstairs, into her room, a place where you could probably get to with your eyes closed by now.

"Put the bags on the desk and stand over there." Her tone is final, and you do exactly what she says. You may run McKinley, but in this bedroom, hell even in your own bedroom, Berry calls the shots.

She walks over to where you placed the bags, checking the contents and grunting in approval when she sees they're all there. "Well done, Santana," she says, smiling at you for the first time all day, not the smug smirk she's been throwing at you since you first saw her that morning. She pulled out the carton of cream, inspecting the ingredients thoroughly before putting it down next to the bag she'd pulled it out of. "You must have tried hard to get this, it's not easy, even for me." You explain you had to go through at least six shops to find it, and she nods in understanding, pulling out the rest of the contents of the bag.

She places them neatly in a row as you watch in silence, not daring to speak when she hasn't granted it. Eventually she finishes, screwing the bag up and throwing it into the trashcan in the corner. She turns back to you, frowning. "Why are you still in your clothes?"

Your eyes widen in acknowledgement as you unzip your cheerios top and skirt, sliding them off along with your spankies. Her eyebrows rise, as if she's expecting you to continue with your strip, and you slide your panties off too, quickly unclipping your bra and allowing it to fall to the floor before kicking it out the way. "Good." She turns her back to you again and you're left standing there awkwardly, not sure whether you should advance on her or try to cover your body.

But you're Santana fucking Lopez, and you have the second best body in the school. You admit this only to yourself, though. Berry's body is enough to make your mouth water and your thighs begin to shake, before she even starts touching you.

She's not granting you that pleasure, not yet, anyway. She comes towards you slowly, a predator stalking her prey. When she reaches you she trails her fingertips lightly up your arm, goosebumps rising in its wake, making you shiver deliciously. Her eyes darken as the shudder runs through you, but her touch remains light, teasing, as it comes round and down over the swell of your breast, avoiding your already hardened nipple before coming down to rest on your hip.

She smirks, knowing you don't really have the guts to try and set the pace, to touch her without permission. You wouldn't admit this to anyone, not even Brittany, but it feels so fucking good to be controlled, to be dominated in a way that Berry does to you. You sigh as her thumb strokes softly against the skin on your stomach, ghosting over a dark hickey she'd left there yesterday.

"Berry, I-" She shushes you, almost soothingly, not harsh, not yet. Her other hand comes up to rest on the soft skin next to your shoulder, over your collarbone, before scratching down lightly. You sigh again at the sensation, before she pushes your head to the one side, baring your neck to her. You see her lick her lips before closing the gap between her mouth and your neck, placing gentle kisses there, barely grazing your skin.

You groan in annoyance, the anticipation building up in you. You're standing naked in front of Rachel Berry, all the toys that you _know_are in her room, and yet she's just gently touching you, adamant on dragging It out for as long as she can.

You tilt your neck further, trying to get Berry to cover more area with her lips, to apply more pressure, _something_. She must notice your distress because she pulls back completely, tutting softly, telling you that she's in charge, that she'll do what she wants to you, how she wants.

She ghosts her lips over yours, so light you wouldn't even know she'd done it if you weren't watching her so intensely, aware of every move the smaller girl was making. She presses down a little harder next time your lips connect, and at the same time she scratches at your side, just above your hip, and you moan gently against her mouth because she knows, she fucking _knows,_how much that drives you insane, how much it turns you on.

She smirks against your lips and demands entrance with her tongue. You grant it her instantly, aware of what the consequences would be if you didn't, and her tongue delves into your mouth. You don't try battling for dominance, not wanting the contact to be taken away, which you're sure it would be.  
Berry has full control, and as her fingers trail down your abs and past the curve of your hip, into the dip next to it and down your thigh, you give a keening whine, wanting what you know you're not going to get for a while.

She draws small circles on the inside of your thigh, drawing a finger up lightly and gasping when she feels how wet you are. "You're such a slut, Santana Lopez," and you nod, you just nod desperately, because you _are_a slut for Rachel Berry, and you'd do anything she asked without thinking because she makes you feel so good.

She backs you up until your calves hit her bed, and she pushes you down onto it. She crashes her lips against yours, almost feral, and when she pulls back a few seconds later you notice her eyes have darkened, almost black now, and her hand is still lingering between your legs. You whimper with need, trying to push your hips up into her hand, desperate for her to put some pressure on you, but she holds back, drawing her hand away, leaving you more frustrated.

She stands again, and pulls you up so you're sitting on the edge of the bed, staring up at her, waiting for your next instruction. She smirks down at you, resting your hands on her own hips, and doesn't blink as she says, "strip me." And you do so eagerly.

Within seconds she's completely naked, and you're staring at her body in awe. You go to touch her, then stop, and hesitantly ask, "Can I- can I touch-?" And she must be taking pity on you, because she whispers yes and all hesitancy is gone and both of your hands are on her chest, and your fingers deftly pull and roll her nipples, her head throws back and she moans lowly, gasping at the contact.

You smirk, smug for the first time since you got here. She glances back down at you and you instantly know it's a mistake, because she's roughly pushing you backwards again, laying her naked body flush against yours, pulling your hands over your head and restraining them there.

You moan into her mouth as she bites your lower lip, and over it you hear a distinct rattling of some sort. Before you can fully comprehend what the sound ones, you feel something furry tickling your right wrist, then your left, and the next thing you know she's handcuffed both of your hands to the metal bars of the headboard. You moan as you struggle against them, it becoming clear you have no chance of moving until she takes them off you again, so you resign with a small sigh as she gets back off you and walks over to the desk.

A few seconds later she's back, and you know things are about to get sticky because she's pouring strawberry syrup over your stomach and drizzling it over your chest, and you arch your back at the coldness of it against your hot skin. She smirks at you again, and you swear you've never seen anything as sexy as a naked, smug Rachel Berry, and then she's leaning down and licking the syrup from your stomach, and you release another guttural moan at the difference in temperatures between the cold syrup and the warmth of her mouth and tongue.

It seems to spur her on because now she's at your chest, ignoring the rest of the syrup on your stomach, and she's teasingly licking over the swell of your breast, with a long stripe over your nipple, and you buck your hips into hers, and she moans at the contact. She blows softly over the nub and you gasp at the feeling of the sudden, sharp cold, and she's smirking again, and you allow yourself a small "fuck you" in defiance.

Her hand is at the base of your throat in a moment, not enough to really hurt, but enough to put an uncomfortable pressure there. "What did you say?" You shake your head frantically, not wanting to repeat the words. "That's what I thought." She releases her hold on your neck, and pushes herself up until she's kneeling. "Get on your hands and knees."

You comply instantly, and you know this is going to hurt, because she's done it before, and part of you is excited. The first blow comes swiftly, and you jerk forwards, not expecting it so soon. You've recovered in a second though, and the next time her hand meets your ass in a sharp smack, you're pushing back against it, relishing in the combination of pain and pleasure.

"You like this, don't you?" Her voice is quiet but superior, and you nod because you're so turned on right now you don't think you could speak. "I want to hear you say it, say how much of a slut you are." You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out, and she lays another smack on your ass, her tone mocking as she says, "What's wrong? You agreed earlier. You're just a filthy, little, slut." The last three words were punctuated with a hard smack to alternating ass cheeks, and you cry out as a tear rolls down your cheek at the pain.

"I'm-" You gasp as another hand connects with your butt, and try to recollect yourself. "I'm just a filthy little slut, Berry. I'm such a slut for you." You rush out, barely taking another breath, before you can feel Rachel's on your ear, hot and heavy as she whispers how you're a good girl, and that you can relax, but stay on your hands and knees.

The bed shifts a little and she's standing off the bed next to you, holding the tub of strawberries you bought in one hand. "I'm going to wash these." She was always sensible even during the kinkiest sex she'd experienced. "If you so much as move, let alone try to pleasure yourself, you'll get another round of punishment."

You nod sharply in reply, and her footsteps quickly fade away, and the door slams shut and you're left there, on your own. Your knees and hands ache and you quickly roll the kinks out of your wrists, hearing them click as you wince. It's not enough, though, the dull pain is still there and you're not sure how long she's going to leave you there, so you straighten up, resting just on your knees, and stretch out your back, another satisfying click sounding out. You sigh at the feeling, looking down at your body, and noticing there's still some syrup left on your stomach and chest. You trail a finger through the sticky substance, bringing it to your lips and sucking on it, noting how good it tastes.

You take some off your tits this time, and as you do, your finger swipes across a hard nipple, and you moan at the contact. You bite your lip, trying to mute the sounds, as you repeat the action; your breathing gets heavier and deeper. You take a quick glance towards the door, with no sign of Berry coming back soon, you take the nipple between your thumb and forefinger and roll it harshly, eliciting a low moan from yourself. Your other hand drifts between your legs and a single finger slips through your wetness and another moan escapes your lips.

You're so preoccupied with the feeling of your hands on your burning skin you don't hear the door click open and shut, or the footsteps padding across the floor towards the bed. When a cold icecube makes contact with the dimples at the bottom of your back, you jerk forwards and cry out at the sudden coldness.

You turn your head and make eye contact with Rachel's burning orbs, and you can tell you're in trouble because you've never seen her so pissed off. She pushes your back forward until you're on your hands and knees again, and when you're bared to her again the ice is merging with the wetness that you're practically dripping with now, and suddenly it's _inside_you, and Rachel fucking Berry has just pushed an ice cube inside your pussy, and you're gasping at the intrusion, both out of surprise and pleasure because fuck, it feels so good.

You unconsciously clench against it and Berry's pulling at your hips, telling you to sit on the edge of the bed and spread your legs and you obey within a heartbeat, ready for whatever she's got in store for you next.

She's got the strawberries, freshly washed and in a bowl, and the cream you searched so hard for next to her as she kneels inbetween your legs, and you watch, mesmerised, as she trails a single strawberry through your folds, and your thighs shudder at the sensation.

Without breaking eye contact, she fucking_ licks_the strawberry, then takes a bite out of it, her lips curving around the food and you just stare, your mouth open slightly at the sight of how fucking sexy Rachel Barbra Berry is.

She takes another strawberry, and trails it through you again, only this time dips it ever so slightly into you, and you gasp at the sensation. It's gone almost as quick as it was there, and Berry's taking another bite again. She smirks up at you, telling you how much strawberries and _cream_is her favourite dessert, and you lick your lips as she offers you the next bite, which you take gratefully.

The carton of cream is next, and she sounds like she's talking to herself when she says she's making herself a _Santana Sundae_, and when she finishes drizzling the cream over your stomach and pussy she sits back and stares, saying she's got a new favourite dessert and you mewl quietly as she begins to lick it off.

She takes the bottle of strawberry syrup again, adding to the cream and places a single, small strawberry in amongst it. She grins up at you and, never breaking eye contact, takes a long, slow, deliberate lick and your hips buck into your face, and God only knows you're almost riding her face but she knows, and you know, that she's the one still in control, but you let yourself pretend you're in charge, just for a while.

She teases you for a few minutes, just gentle lips around your folds, and suddenly, almost without warning, her tongue is in you, and your walls are clenching around it as your grasp for something to cling on to, your hands finally finding her hair. She licks up again and she's sucking on your clit, and you moan out her name because it feels so good, and a hand reaches up to play with your nipple, and another comes down and she pushes in two fingers without warning and she sucks particularly hard. You're coming undone suddenly and your walls are clenching tighter, and she drinks down every drop of your come as she licks slower, helping you ride out your orgasm. You're flat on your back, gasping and chest heaving before Rachel is hovering over you, peppering small kisses on your jaw, and neck, before she kisses you fully on the lips.

"That was," you take a deep breath, finding it hard to regulate it, "that was so fucking awesome, Rachel." It's the first time you've actually called her by her first name and she seems to notice it to, because she smiles down at you before kissing you again, softer this time.

"You're pretty amazing yourself, _Lopez_," and you both grin at each other because that's the first time she's called you by your _last_name, and your eyes wander over to the desk, where the last remaining items are still there. She follows your line of eyesight and smirks. "We're melting that soya chocolate and you're returning the favour, Santana."

You moan at the thought and she chuckles deliciously before leaning to kiss you again. A Rachel Berry Sundae is surely to taste just as good as it sounds.


End file.
